Appeals and Dinner Dates
by GreyLiliy
Summary: Klavier overhears that Winston Payne of all people has defeated Apollo Justice in court, and can't believe his ears. Certainly there must be a mistake? As it turns out, approaching Apollo on the subject opens the doorway to a new relationship he wasn't expecting, and Apollo finds himself with a new branch of clientele. (Pairing: Klavier/Apollo, Slow Burn. Friends to More.)
1. Chapter 1

_I was itching to write some AA fanfic & mostly wanted to write something with Klavier & Apollo because they're the favs. _

_Takes place between games four and five because I like Clay alive. Taking a few liberties with the timeline though, such as Edgeworth coming back a little earlier to take the Head Prosecutor position. Also game-accurate continuity mistakes will be made because as much as I love this franchise, I am far from having all the details memorized. (Same goes for knowledge of the legal system. Creative liberties everywhere! Not that the AA world has ever had a clearly defined legal system to start with. XD)_

 _Anyway, these notes are long, but hoping this fanfic will be (relatively) short. And finished at some point. *squints at my own backlog of unfinished fics* You're getting it either way because I don't know how to_ not _post things that are decent, finished or not. XD_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Did you hear? Justice lost to Payne," the voice at the water color whined, stretching out the last name as though it physically hurt her to say. The sigh that followed was equally pained, and rightly so if her statement had been correct. "We'll be hearing him gloat for weeks."

"Was the Defense having an off day or something?" Another voice responded, and Klavier found himself leaning against the wall just around the corner in order to listen better. "I thought that Wright agency was pretty good."

"Well, I heard he was alone on the bench, but I can't imagine having his co-counsel there would have made things easier," the first woman said. She lowered her voice, almost whispering as if her gossip was scandalous. "I mean, the case was over in twenty minutes. Payne destroyed him."

Klavier decided that eavesdropping simply wasn't good enough for this and rounded the corner with his best rock star smile on. Keeping his strut even as he approached them, he paused by the couple and began, "Forgive me for interrupting, but did you say something about Payne destroying a case? That seems a little far fetched."

"Prosecutor Gavin!" The second man said, and Klavier recognized him as one of the older secretaries from the front desk. "You hadn't heard yet?"

"If I had, would I be asking?" Klavier twirled the end of his hair, radiating as much aloofness as possible. "I usually try to avoid the gossip mill, though I must admit this one is tempting."

"Payne won his case against Apollo Justice this morning," the first woman replied. Now that he got a good look at her, he remembered she usually prosecuted misdemeanor cases. Though he couldn't recall her name, despite his best efforts. She shrugged, holding a bunch of files to her chest. "He's been bragging about it since he got out of court."

"What sort of case was it?" Klavier asked, unable to help himself. He'd lost to young Mr. Justice enough times that to hear he'd lost to Payne of all people was unthinkable! "Perhaps it was something more open and shut than Herr Forehead's usual case load?"

"Murder trial," she said, tilting her head to the side. She scrunched her nose trying to think. "Payne didn't really talk about the details, aside from 'putting another killer away!' bragging, but there might have been more going on. All I know is Payne got the guilty verdict, and we saw Justice down at appeals about an hour after court ended."

"Thank you for the enlightening news," Klavier said, holding his hand up to wave goodbye.

He strode away from the water cooler gossip, his feet heading toward the Appeals Desk without a second thought. To the best of his knowledge, no one in the Wright Anything Agency had ever needed to visit that particular branch of the courts, and knowing poor Justice, he was drowning in all sorts of new paperwork. Even if he'd been through the process with Kristoph once upon a time, Klavier just knew his brother handled most of it himself.

Sure enough, Klavier found Justice at the appeals counter, having a lovely conversation with the clerk.

"What do you mean I'm missing forms? I read through the application process six times," Justice said, rubbing the side of his head. "What could I possibly be missing?"

Klavier looked over the shorter man's shoulder, careful not to jostle Justice, amused that the Clerk had yet to rat him out. The paperwork looked to be in order from what he could see and, ah, there it was. Klavier knew the problem. "You're missing Form 4L."

Justice jerked, turning around and gaping. "Prosecutor Gavin! How long have you been there?"

"Just long enough to know what was wrong," Klavier said. He tapped the stack of documents Justice held and shrugged. "And the form you're missing is fairly new. I don't think they've updated the official process instructions yet."

"Would have been helpful to know earlier," Justice sighed. He turned to the clerk and asked politely. "Where can I get Form 4L?"

Klavier flashed a smile at the clerk, hoping she took the hint to help the poor defense attorney out. In most cases, she'd send him off to find the forms on his lonesome, and after losing to Payne, Justice deserved a break. She huffed, catching his pleading glance, and pulled up the forms on her computer and printed them off. "Normally you'd find them in the same place as where you got those, but I'll save you some trouble since you've got everything else. Fill this out by hand and I'll take your forms."

"Thank you," Justice said. He took the paperwork and moved his way out of line and off to a side bench.

Klavier helped himself to a seat next to the defense attorney and couldn't help himself. "You'll have to forgive me for being curious, but what has you needing appeal paperwork?"

"For a rock star, you sure stay out of the gossip loop," Justice grunted, dutifully filling out the forms and not sparing Klavier a look. "I heard Payne bragging the second he walked out of the room. I'm surprised the entire department doesn't know by now."

"It's not often that you lose," Klavier said, carefully. "That's true. Having an off day?"

"No, I just didn't realize how vindictive Payne was going to be about the whole thing," Justice said. His pen scribbled on the form and he flipped through a few pages to double check his answers were consistent through the documents. "Besides, my client pled guilty from the start. That's hardly a win when it was only a sentencing trial."

"And the appeal?"

"Payne took a pot shot at my client, insulting his kid, so he got angry on the stand," Justice sighed, rubbing his temples. He slumped in his seat, like the world was against him. "They had to restrain the guy to calm him down, and I can't say it was his best moment. Between that and Payne leading the judge, my client ended up with a much longer sentence than what I was pushing for. I'm hoping to appeal and get the minimum sentence and his chance for parole back."

"A little odd to hear you were pushing for a lighter sentence for a murderer," Klavier said, watching as Justice filled in the last few bits of the form.

Justice paused and glanced at Klavier, swallowing lightly. Klavier could tell that Justice was weighing his words carefully. "He was deeply remorseful over the event. He called me to help get a shorter sentence and make sure he could keep visiting hour privileges, not to see if I could get him off the hook completely."

"I see," Klavier said. He crossed his legs, but he still couldn't picture Justice going easy on a killer. Not after everything he'd been through. "I suppose that's fair."

Justice sighed and shook his head. He put both his hands on his stack of paperwork and fixed Klavier with such an intense, burning look in his eyes that it made his heart skip a beat. "Look, I've heard it enough from Mr. Wright about taking a guilty client, but I'll tell you what I told him: If the man had lied to me and denied what he did, I probably wouldn't have given him a second look, but the guy's got a three year old at home and I believe him when he says he's sorry. So if I can help his sentenced reduced to fifteen years so he can see his girl graduate high school in person, I'm going to do my best and make sure it happens."

"Ah, a second degree case then," Klavier said, knowing that the sentence would have been much, much longer for something premeditated. He supposed he couldn't blame Justice for wanting to help out someone who acted in the heat of the moment. Klavier leaned his cheek on his forehead and hummed. "May I ask the details, or should I read the official record?"

"No, it's really not that big of a deal," Justice said. He filled in the last of his form and put his pen down. "A bar fight got out of hand and my client bashed the victim's head in on the side of a pool table. He regretted it immediately, but by that point it's too late, you know?"

Klavier patted Justice on the shoulder, unsure of how he could possibly answer that question. Some days it was frightening how quickly your entire life could be destroyed from one poor decision, and it was a sobering thought. Klavier nodded instead. "Good luck with your appeals process."

"Thanks," Justice said. The young man flipped through his paperwork one more time to double check everything and once it was set he stood up from the bench. As he set the papers under his arm, he snorted all of a sudden and looked at Klavier with an amused half-grin. "You want to know the funniest thing about all this?"

"What?" Klavier asked, playing along with the sudden cheerful mood of his favorite defense attorney.

"This is the first client that's actually paid me," Justice laughed.

Klavier snorted himself, covering his mouth as the defense attorney went back to the clerk to file his case work. Curiosity sated, Klavier left, fully intending to make sure that people knew Payne had yet to win anything.

* * *

"Gavin, may I have a word?" Edgeworth asked, knocking on the side of the office door before sticking his head in. He had a large folder under his arm and the bags under his eyes were drooping more than usual. As the only other person in the office as fashionable as Klavier, that sort of exhaustion on his face ought to be criminal. Edgeworth stepped into the room. "It should only take a moment."

Klavier pushed aside the case he had been reviewing and stood. His thoughts raced thinking of any reason why he'd be getting a visit from Edgeworth, and coming up with none, decided that he might as well let the older man tell him. "Of course, Head Prosecutor! What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could give me an opinion," Edgeworth said, opening his top file as he crossed the room. He stopped near Klavier's desk and snapped the folder closed after scanning the pages. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Hit me," Klavier said, shrugging. "If I can be of assistance, I'd be glad to."

"What sort of man is young Mr. Justice?" Edgeworth asked.

Not expecting that sort of question, Klavier found himself pressing his lips together. New questions of "Why?" popped into Klavier's head, and he found himself weighing his words carefully. "He's a good man, though a bit loud and nervous at times. May I ask why?"

"His appeal for that case from last week was approved, and I've yet to assign a prosecutor to the case," Edgeworth said. He fixed his glasses on his face. "I was wondering about his character, and whether or not his call for appeal was in good faith or not."

"Justice almost always means for the best, if that's what you wanted to know. He's very dedicated to finding truth and pursuing it relentlessly," Klavier said. He twirled the end of his hair and shrugged as he pictured Justice across the court room. "He happens to fit his last name very well, if you ask me."

"Thank you. I won't ask for much more than that," Edgeworth said.

"Deciding between sending a heavy hitter or a pushover to the appeal trial based on the Defense's character?" Klavier laughed. He picked up a pen and tapped it on the surface, far more amused than he should be. What was their department coming to these days? "I wonder if that's a good thing or not."

"More like a necessity," Edgeworth sighed. He set his stack of papers on the desk and ran a hand through his hair. "We're so short staffed at the moment, that frankly, I find myself needing to delegate cases this way to avoid overworking anyone. Better not to waste resources on long trials when we both know the preferred outcome. Besides, he's only appealing the sentence."

"Yes, he mentioned that when I caught him filing the paperwork." Klavier leaned his hip on the desk and crossed his arms. "My professional opinion? You can usually trust Justice's judgement in most cases, though never go easy on him in court. He'll get a swelled head."

"It's nice to know you can still be professional despite being friends on opposite sides of the courtroom," Edgeworth commented. He looked to the side, his eyes half lidded and glassy. Klavier recognized the lost thoughts immediately and allowed the man to have his moment. Edgeworth turned up to look at him a moment later, a sad smile on his face. "It's a tough road to walk sometimes."

Before Klavier had the chance to answer, Edgeworth nodded and said his thanks and goodnight, heading out the door. Whether he had been avoiding conversation after an accidentally slip of admitting he was friends with Wright, or merely finished with his business, Klavier didn't know.

He took a seat back at his desk in the quiet room and crossed his fingers. He thought of the man in the red vest and a voice that certainly matched his rooster-like appearance. "Friends, huh?"

* * *

"Thank you, thank you," a large man sobbed, holding Justice's hands. The individual had cuffs on his wrists, and a guard at his side, but didn't seem to be a threat. Instead, he towered over Justice, a good two feet taller, and whimpered as he said thanks over and over again. "I can't thank you enough."

"Calm down, Mr. Peters," Justice replied, a nervous smile on his face. Klavier couldn't help but grin at the young man's embarrassment under the praise, even when coming from a man about to be put away. "Your apology helped a lot, and the judge was sympathetic. I told you it would be fine."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't fought so hard, it wouldn't have happened," the man said, squeezing Justice's hands harder. Klavier could see the way Justice's back bend under the unintentional pain from across the room. The larger man seemed to remain oblivious to his own strength. "I swear. When I get out, I'm buying you a round."

"That would be nice," Justice answered diplomatically. The guard cleared his throat and Justice patted the back of his client's hands. "You have to go now, but I'll be at the detention center tomorrow before your transfer to help finalize a bit of the paperwork, and help your wife and daughter navigate visiting hours."

"Of course," the man said. He reluctantly released Justice's hands and was dragged off to the side and through the large doors that led to the holding cells.

Justice visibly wilted, breathing out and running his hand through his hair. He rubbed his arms where the larger man had been clinging with a frown on his face, and Klavier took that as a cue to come and be annoying. The bruises on his arms were worrisome, but Justice didn't seem to mind them.

"I take it your appeal went well, Herr Forehead?" Klavier asked, slapping a hand on Justice's back and relishing the way the boy jumped. "With the way your client was acting, you'd think he'd gotten the guilty verdict appealed instead."

Justice huffed and turned to face Klavier. He put his hands on his hips and nodded his head toward the door where the prisoner had been escorted out. "When the difference is between fifteen years behind bars and sixty, it's almost the same amount of relief."

"Congratulations either way," Klavier said. It was either the bags under Justice's eyes, or the bruises on his wrists that had Klavier inviting him out before he could stop himself. "Care to celebrate?"

Justice looked startled, before asking, "Celebrate?"

"I was thinking dinner," Klavier suggested. "Nothing like getting something to eat after an exhausting trial."

The defense attorney gave him a calculating look, the sort that made Klavier feel like he was being dissected. But it left as soon as it came, and Justice crossed his arms with a grin. "Are you paying?"

"Naturally," Klavier replied. It wasn't like he didn't have the money for it, and he honestly didn't mind paying, but that didn't mean he was going to let Justice completely off the hook for wanting a free meal! "I offered, so I should pay. Yes?"

"Then yeah, I could go for some food," Justice said. He reached down and picked up his briefcase. "Where were you thinking"

"I know just the place!" Klavier laughed, slapping a hand on Justice's shoulder.

* * *

"I want you to know, I'm never letting you pick the restaurant again," Justice said, sinking into his seat. The booth was spacious enough that the smaller man probably could have disappeared in it should he try hard enough. Justice sipped at his water glass, glaring at Klavier. "Even if it means I have to pay."

"The food happens to be very good here," Klavier said in return. He hummed as he glanced over the menu, looking for anything new on the ever changing selection. He'd never seen the same items listed twice in a row, and if he recalled, they cycled the menu once per week. "Let me know if you want help picking something out. I know the chef, and he has his own little quirks."

"I am not dressed well enough to be here," Justice said, looking around the room. "My business causal is hardly black tie formal, even if it is a vest."

"You're acting like I'm wearing a tuxedo," Klavier laughed, crossing his legs under the table. He took a sip from his own water glass, his rings clinking against the glass. "You're fine."

"You have rock star immunity," Justice responded, sitting up straighter in his seat. "It doesn't matter what you're wearing because everyone recognizes you and it nullifies the dress code."

"And you're dining with a rock star, which in turn applies the same to your own wardrobe," Klavier replied easily enough. Justice was arguing, but his heart wasn't really in it to win. A forced show of annoyance to get back at Klavier for picking someplace Justice couldn't have afforded even if he'd agreed to go dutch. Well that was just what the defense attorney got when he decided to abuse Klavier's wallet so obviously. "You're fine. And I can see our waitress returning, so pick something on the menu already before we have to make her come back again."

Justice rolled his eyes and flipped a page on the menu. His eyes scanned the single page and pursed his lips in a frown. He glanced at Klavier and asked softly, "Is the roasted duck any good?"

"Depends if you like pepper," Klavier said. "He tends to go overboard when it comes to the duck for some reason I've yet to figure out."

"Maybe I'll go for the soft-shell crab then," Apollo said, still squinting at the menu. "Though considering the level of cuisine here, I'm sure I could order anything and it'l all be new."

"Come on now, Herr Forehead," Klavier laughed and rested his cheek on his hand. "Isn't that the biggest reason to dine at a place like this? To try new things?"

"Point," Justice said. He crossed his arms over the table and shrugged. "What are you getting?"

"The lamb," Klavier said. He shifted his drink to the side and laid his menu flat out on the table. He pointed to the dish near the bottom of the menu, happy to see that the tradition of always including at least one traditional Greek dish every week had yet to be broken. "The chef is Greek, and makes the best yogurt sauce you've ever had."

"That does sound good," Justice said, looking at the description of it on his own menu. He laughed and asked, "It's not weird if I order the same thing as you, is it?"

"I certainly won't hold it against you," Klavier said. He looked up at the waitress and asked with a wink. "What do you think, miss?"

"I think the lamb's good enough that I wouldn't blink if a party of eight all ordered the same dish," she laughed back, right on cue. "Can I take that you two have decided on two lamb dishes?"

"Yes, ma'am," Justice said, closing his menu. "That'll be fine."

"And go ahead and add a bottle of whatever Italian red you've got in stock today," Klavier added, leaning back.

"Yes sir," the waitress smiled. She refilled their water cups and took the menus away with a smile and a bounce in her step Klavier had gotten used to see in every lovely lady (and sometimes young man) who had the privilege of serving a rock star. Klavier chuckled and nodded at Justice. "Remind me to leave her an autograph."

"I'm sure you won't forget," Justice said, shaking his head. He leaned back in his seat and breathed slowly, closing his eyes. Klavier allowed him to have his moment, and settled into his own booth seat. Justice jerked a second later at the sound of a loud "Beep!" and pulled his phone from his pocket. He snorted and started to type. "Oops. I forgot to tell Mr. Wright I was going to be late coming back."

"He keeps a rather tight leash, doesn't he?" Klavier asked, humming as the waitress returned with their wine and two glasses. She poured and he thanked her before picking up his glass. "Your working hours aren't that controlled, are they?"

"No, it's just unusual for me to not come back right after a case ends," Justice muttered, still typing with a frown on his face. "And considering my client this time around…"

Justice trailed off and allowed Klavier to fill in the blank. "He assumed the worst and thinks you're dead in a ditch somewhere, didn't he?"

"Something like that," Justice said. He finally flipped his screen off and shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Sorry about that."

Seeing his mood had soured, Klavier pushed the second wine glass closer to Justice. "I take it you've been getting a hard time about your case, despite it being a success?"

"Mr. Wright doesn't think I should have taken it," Justice admitted, taking a small sip from his wine glass. He paused, frowning as he adjusted to the taste and took another sip. "He already forbid Trucy from helping with the case, which was bad enough, but he keeps acting like I've committed some defense attorney sin. I mean, he does know defending guilty clients is a thing defense attorneys do, doesn't he?"

"Considering he tends to avoid guilty clients like the plague, perhaps not," Klavier chuckled. He took a larger sip from his glass and set it aside to wait for the meal. "Though at least that explains where the young Trucy had gone. I remembered them saying you were without co-counsel for this, but it didn't cross my mind to ask."

"Well, at least on that one I couldn't blame Mr. Wright," Justice said. He twisted his bracelet around in a circle on his arm, occasionally rubbing the skin beneath it with his thumb. "She's very helpful and used to being around dangerous situations, but she's still a little young, and my client did have a hard time controlling his strength. He meant well, but I think even after he gets out, he'll have to be extra careful to control himself."

"I wish him luck, if just for your sake," Klavier said. He picked up his glass and tilted it toward Justice. "To our clients bettering themselves after the worst is over?"

"I'll drink to that," Justice said. He tapped his glass against Klavier's and took a long gulp from the cup.

* * *

Klavier watched in amusement as Justice hopped off the back of his motorcycle, parked in front of the defense attorney's apartment building. The younger man straightened the bike he'd been carrying on his shoulder the entire time with practiced ease and pulled his briefcase out of Klavier's storage compartment with the other hand.

"Thanks for the lift home, Klavier," Justice said. He yawned into his shoulder and looked around the dark street. "We were out longer than I thought we'd be."

"Good dinner conversation will do that," Klavier laughed. He stretched his limbs out and crossed his arms across the handlebars. "I had fun. You should win appeals cases more often."

"Only appeals cases?" Justice asked, grinning despite it all.

"I'm hardly going to be up for celebrating on days you beat me in court, now am I?" Klavier shot back.

"You should though," Justice said, his eyes laughing. "Justice prevailing and the innocent walking free is everyone's win, isn't it?"

"You earned a point for having a good come back, but lost it for that dreadful pun on your last name, Herr Forehead," Klavier said. He waved his hand and hummed lightly. "Now off with you. We're both going to need sleep to prepare for tomorrow. You've got a detention center visit, and I've got to deal with the fallout of Payne's single 'winning case' being overruled in Appeals."

"Don't remind me," Justice said, shaking his head. He hiked his bike higher on his shoulder and skipped up the front steps of the apartment building opening stoop. "I'll see you later, Gavin."

"Until next time," Klavier said, waving.

He waited for Justice and his bike to disappear into the apartment building before kicking up his bike stand and starting the motor. The engine roared beneath him and he shot away from the building and back into the city.

Dinner had been fun. More fun than Klavier had been expecting, and he was happy to note that Justice continued to impress him. Be it standing up for a man who made mistakes, or in fact remembering to remind Klavier to leave the waitress one of the signed head shots he carried around for emergencies.

As Klavier turned the key and entered his own home, he found himself already looking forward to another night out with his friend.

He paused, holding his keys over the bowl next to the door as he shut it behind him with the back of his heel. Edgeworth's words from earlier filled his head and he dropped the keys in the bowl with a clatter. He hung his helmet on the wall and collapsed into his couch with a smile.

"Justice and I are definitely friends," Klavier said to himself, grinning at the ceiling. "I'm shocked Edgeworth noticed before I did."

He probably shouldn't have felt so relieved to admit that to himself. But, Klavier thought to himself as he closed his eyes and rested on the couch, this only meant things were looking up.

And it was nice to have something to look forward to again.


	2. Chapter 2

_And now something from Apollo's POV~ Hadn't decided if I was going to swap, or have it be all Klavier-Centric, but settled on swapping. A bit more fun that way and I get to play around with Apollo's perception. :3_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Apollo bit into the slice of toast, sitting at his table and enjoying his breakfast. He'd slept better last night than he had in ages, even with his shoulder aching from having to cart his bike around while riding on Gavin's motorcycle. Apollo chuckled around another bite of toast. He supposed he could have left it at the court house, but it was funnier to see Gavin's face when Apollo insisted that Gavin not have to make the return trip, and that he was just fine carrying it.

It was even funnier getting to chain his ten-speed to Gavin's motor-monster before handing it to the valet.

The Valet.

Apollo groaned, rubbing the side of his face. As much fun as dinner had been, Apollo was still embarrassed he'd shown up to the only five-star restaurant in town that required a six-figure paycheck and a two month reservation to get in while wearing his court clothes. The second they pulled up and the man in the vest asked for Gavin's keys, Apollo knew he'd been had by the rich lawyer. No matter what Gavin said about his immunity passing over, Apollo could still feel the stares as they walked through the restaurant toward the table. He really, really should have known the man was going to pull something like that after agreeing to pay so easily.

Though, considering Gavin got a table just by walking in and winking, he might not have been all wrong. It was mostly customers who gave them odd looks, not the staff. So Apollo was probably still free to show his face there again should he ever got lucky and actually become esteemed enough to eat there on his own. Or at least be fine to wear what he had the next time Gavin invited him out for a victory meal.

He smacked his cheeks.

Apollo stuffed the last of his toast in his mouth and pushed away from his table. He put up his breakfast dishes and sighed. Now was not the time to be thinking of going out with Gavin again, even if it was still sort of cool that he knew a rock star well enough to do so (not that he would ever admit that to Gavin!). Apollo had work to do, and Mr. Wright to appease after his "disappearing" act last night.

Grabbing his bike from it's place next to the door, he hauled it on his shoulder and locked up his apartment. He waved at his neighbor as he trotted down to the stairwell and got on his way to the office once his bike tires hit the street.

Traffic was light at this time in the morning, and Apollo would have plenty of time to make sure Trucy had left for school and promised to actually go there (she had a bad habit of getting distracted and performing instead of getting to class), and getting his conversation with Mr. Wright out of the way so he could get over to the detention center for the last of the paperwork nightmare.

On the bright side, he won his appeal, which was a relief, in more ways than one. Not only did it mean he wouldn't have to visit the appeals desk again any time soon, but his client was going to get to see his little girl grow up, despite it all. That was both a victory check for Apollo's piece of mind, and his reputation as a lawyer.

And getting paid sure didn't hurt either.

Now if only Apollo could get the rest of his clients to actually look at his invoices that he had receipts with proof of mailing, then he'd really be in business.

He sighed, pulling the bike onto the sidewalk at the building the Wright Anything Agency was in. It wasn't that Apollo minded doing charity work when it counted (he totally agreed with Mr. Wright on that front!), but it was really hard to keep a business running when your only form of income were magic shows and (probably illegal) gambling.

He hooked his bike over his shoulder and hauled it up the stairs of the building.

* * *

Mr. Wright was still asleep on the couch when Trucy dashed out of the living room (stopping to put a kiss on her daddy's head as she said goodbye) on her way to school. Apollo waved at her as she passed by, and continued filling out the paperwork he needed this afternoon.

He liked these early mornings, truthfully. There was something nice about getting work done with the sound of Mr. Wright's light snoring in the background. Some might think it was distracting, but it reminded Apollo that he wasn't alone. Another warm body around for company, awake or not, was soothing and it eased his nerves. Besides, if Mr. Wright was that sound asleep, it meant he had a good night at work. He only stayed up all night with insomnia on the nights that the money didn't come in.

"Morning, Apollo," Mr. Wright grunted, shoving his beanie up on his head. He yawned into his arm and sat up on the couch, his entire body moving with more grace than you'd think with his appearance. Apollo had learned long ago never to underestimate Mr. Wright in any way. The man squinted at the clock on at the edge of the couch and huffed. "You're here early."

"Technically the office opened an hour ago," Apollo pointed out with a tiny smirk. He flipped a paper over to highlight a few terms on the other side. "You slept in."

"That stack of paperwork next to your arm tells me you've been here at least two hours, if not more," Mr. Wright smiled back. He scratched the back of his head through the beanie and yawned. "I take it you had a good night out with Gavin then?"

"Yup," Apollo said, suspicious but not altogether willing to dismiss the fact that Mr. Wright might let his angry texts from last night go without added comment.

"I'm glad," Mr. Wright said, pulling himself off the couch. He stretched his arms out and fixed his clothes. The man shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and smiled softly in that way that meant he wanted to say something else, but held it back for Apollo's sake. "You and Gavin both need to get out more, if you ask me."

Mr. Wright shuffled into the bathroom, and Apollo heard the shower a few minutes later. He shrugged and went back to his paperwork. Looks like he had misjudged Mr. Wright. Apollo had expected a lecture, but instead he basically got an apology for overreacting last night via text messages. Sort of. An apology would mean that he had been wrong, and as Apollo had learned, his last name wasn't "wright" for nothing.

Apollo huffed at the pun and went back to work to the sound of the shower running, and Mr. Wright's singing through the thin walls.

* * *

The afternoon sun was bright overhead as Apollo left the detention center. This case was officially closed, and aside from a follow up visit in a few months with Mr. Peter's wife at her request, Apollo had nothing left to do but file paperwork back at the office.

Sure, he needed to start working on getting his next client, but for now, Apollo was going to enjoy his break.

"Herr Forehead!" Gavin shouted. Apollo turned his head to see the rock star, pulling his sunglasses up into his hair. The man, looking pressed and perfect as ever to Apollo's chagrin (Would it kill him to look rumpled once in his life? Apollo thought to himself, smoothing his vest), strutted his way over with a smile. "What a pleasant surprise. How are you today?"

"Pretty good," Apollo nodded. He swung his briefcase over his shoulder and moved to the side to get out of the way of the foot traffic. "How are you doing, Gavin?"

"You know, you can call me Klavier when we're not in court," Gavin said, shaking his head. He reached up and fiddled with his necklace, his rings clacking metallically against the metal pendant. "In fact, I think you slipped last night in fact! It was nice."

"I did?" Apollo asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. He stopped. He had. He'd called him "Klavier" when he thanked him for the ride home. Apollo felt the red on his cheeks and huffed. "Guess I did."

"You know, it's pretty normal for friends to call each other by their names, Herr Forehead," Gavin—no, Klviaer, said, smiling a bit too brightly. "We are friends, yes?"

Apollo's bracelet twitched. He watched Klavier carefully, and caught the slight shrug of his shoulder and the twitch of his eye. He wasn't lying, but he was nervous for some reason. And his voice had sounded…hopeful? Apollo froze in place, hearing his own heartbeat loud in his ears.

Klavier wasn't sure.

He wasn't sure if he and Apollo were friends or not, and wanted confirmation. Apollo knew he was taking too long to answer, but the weight of that single question felt like an anvil had dropped on his back. He was grateful when the answer came almost immediately after the initial shock wore off.

"Of course we are," Apollo said, sure enough that it erased any doubts he might have had himself about the matter. He tilted his head back, looking as confident as he could. "You think I go out eating with every rival prosecutor to celebrate a win? What sort of defense attorney do you think I am?"

Klavier laughed, and Apollo's bracelet loosened completely. The relief in Klavier's eyes made Apollo's chest swell.

The other man winked and said, "I should hope not."

Apollo shook his head as Klavier pulled his sunglasses back down over his eyes. "So, where are you headed today?"

"Suspect to interview, you know how it goes," Klavier said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Shouldn't take long, though. Man's guilty as sin, and all I'm doing is taking his non-statement."

"Non-statement?" Apollo asked.

"Refuses to talk at all, even to his defense attorney," Klavier clarified. "I'm just here to confirm he has no statement."

That really wouldn't take long then. Apollo looked at the clock at the side of the station and then back at Klavier. He was tempted to just wait for the man, and then maybe go do something?

Apollo stopped himself. They just had dinner last night, and he was sure to be busy. The man was already swamped at the prosecutor's office, and was working on a new solo album (something he found out at dinner, and was apparently a secret!). Apollo didn't have the right to monopolize that much of his time, even if they were friends.

He'd ask later.

For sure.

"I need to get back to the office," Apollo said. He smiled at Klavier and waved. "I'll see you later."

"Of course, Herr Forehead!" Klavier said. He returned the wave and strut (Apollo had learned was the norm for Klavier; that man didn't just walk anywhere) into the detention center.

Apollo sucked in a breath and grabbed his bike.

* * *

"For the last time, get the hell out and if I see your face again, you'll regret it."

Apollo stopped dead in the hallway as he approached the office. He gaped openly at Mr. Wright snarled at a man in an expensive suit just outside the office door. He shivered, clutching his bike closer to his side. Mr. Wright's voice had held something dangerous in it, and it was terrifying to hear on his usually-well meaning, if not sometimes shady boss.

Just what was going on?

"You can't do this to me! I'm a paying customer here to see an attorney!" The man shot back, fixing his lapels. "And you sure as heck don't look like a lawyer to me! More like a bum who needs his own personal defense."

"Why you—"

"Hey!" Apollo shouted, putting his chords of steel to use. Both men stopped and turned in Apollo's direction. He put his bike on the ground and walked it over to the two men. The guy in the suit smiled, slick and greasy, and Mr. Wright kept his eyes on the stranger. "What's going on here?"

"You must be Justice," the man said. He held out his hand and continued grinning. "I heard what you did for Peters, and was hoping you could help me out."

Mr. Wright's fist tightened, looking like he was three seconds away from punching the guy.

Apollo decided to air on the side of caution, and shook the man's hand. "It's nice to meet you, but I'm afraid consulting hours are finished for today. If you could call back the office tomorrow morning, I'll see about an appointment."

"Thank you. I will do just that." The stranger tipped his hat, and glared at Phoenix. "It's nice to know there are some professionals here."

"Now if you'll excuse us," Apollo said, dismissing the stranger. He shrugged and walked down the hallway, and Mr. Wright followed Apollo into the office. He stowed his bike on the wall and glanced around. "Where's Trucy?"

"Thankfully at a friend's house," Mr. Wright said. He walked over and sat in Apollo's desk chair, with a harsh look on his face. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and looked at Apollo with a frustrated glare. "For the record, this is why I didn't want you to take Peters as a client."

"And what was 'this' exactly?" Apollo asked, dropping his briefcase on the table. "What did he do to make you so angry?"

"He's dangerous, that's what he is," Mr. Wright said, lacing his fingers on the table. "Man had no business being here, and you shouldn't make that appointment."

Apollo rolled his finger in the air for Mr. Wright to continue. "And you learned that how?"

"He wanted you to defend his brother who murdered two people last week. The man was lying through his teeth about the man's alibi and sob story. Everything about him was bad news." Mr. Wright's shoulders dropped and he sighed heavily. The look in his eyes was well-meaning, but still burning with anger from a few moments ago. "Look, Apollo. You got lucky finding a guy like Peters, who was genuinely remorseful. I'll admit it, you defending him was a good thing. But now that you've proven to take not only guilty clients, but have won an appeal, you've attracted attention from the wrong sorts of people who are hoping to take advantage of you and get easy outs in court."

"I can always turn them down," Apollo said. He fixed his papers on his desk and avoided looking directly at Mr. Wright. Apollo needed to word this carefully, because in truth, he didn't totally disagree with Mr. Wright. Apollo had no intention of defending guilty people who didn't care what they had done wrong, but Mr. Peters hadn't been a mistake. Apollo didn't regret it. "There's nothing that says I have to take a client, and if I can help a few good guys who made a mistake in the meantime, then isn't at least hearing out the bad ones to make sure I don't miss anyone alright?"

Mr. Wright watched Apollo carefully and pointed his finger. "And when the wrong type gets mad you turned him down? Then what?"

"I'll deal with it," Apollo said. He covered his mouth glanced toward the rest of the room. He focused on the magic equipment hanging around and something clicked. Apollo tapped his desk. "Look, if it's Trucy you're worried about, I'll post office and consulting hours on the door, and make sure I'm only seeing clients when she's not home. That'll help reduce the number she sees, and if anyone past that sneaks in, she'd probably run into anyway at those bars she does magic shows at."

Mr. Wright got up from the desk and put a heavy hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Trucy isn't the only one I'm worried about."

"I appreciate the concern," Apollo said. He nudged Mr. Wright's side with his elbow and tried to smile. "But I can handle it."

Mr. Wright lifted an eyebrow.

"And if I can't," Apollo said, taking a step back. He crossed his arms and stuck his chin up. Despite the irritation of being treated like a teenager, part of Apollo loved the attention. "I've got you behind me to help out, and even better, I know some of the best prosecutors in the area. I'm pretty sure they'd be willing to help press charges if anyone is actually stupid enough to try and hurt me, you or Trucy."

For a few seconds, Apollo was sure that Mr. Wright was going to say something scathing and sarcastic, but instead he put on his best crooked smile and began to laugh. He ruffled Apollo's hair and went to collapse on the couch.

"Alright," Mr. Wright said, leaning back. He fixed his beanie and leaned his head back. "Long as you understand you're not it in alone, I suppose I can deal with playing bouncer when folks get too rough."

"You certainly look like one," Apollo laughed, rolling his eyes. "Might need to get a new jacket though. The hoodie isn't exactly fear inducing."

"Trust me kid," Mr. Wright said, smiling and tiling his head. His eyes were playful, but still held something serious behind them. Experience. "It's not the clothes that scare 'um."

"I'll take your word for it," Apollo said. Mr. Wright pulled his beanie over his head and laid back on the couch, putting his feet up on the end. Man muttered something about being exhausted after having to throw out the trash and got comfy. Apollo shook his head and laughed. "Have a good nap."

As he sat down at the desk, he noticed the phone blinking with messages. He picked up the receiver and pulled over a notepad to take down any numbers or names that were important.

Six messages later, and Apollo had five new potential clients, each of them wanting Apollo to either find them innocent, or get a shorter sentence. Through at least three of the messages, his bracelet had nearly cut off the circulation in his wrist from bad guy feelings alone. He sucked in a breath and glanced at Mr. Wright who was snoring away.

Maybe Apollo really was getting in over this head.

But then again, at least two sounded legitimate. And they weren't the types of cases that Klavier would be prosecuting. Apollo grinned a bit, and circled their numbers.

Maybe he'd be getting that second victory dinner out with his friend sooner than he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

_The new Ace Attorney_ _anime is out and it is wonderful. It's basically retelling the first game right now, but that's fine. Here's crossing fingers that it does well enough to get three more seasons and we get Apollo. ;D_

 _Speaking! On with my fav Lawyer Boys~_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Klavier dropped off his stack of paperwork at the front desk of the courthouse clerk, more than happy to have it out of his hands and ready to be filed. He stretched his arms over his head and hummed as he turned around, more than ready to get out of the building and back to his office next door. He only had four more cases to get through, and then his paperwork woes would be done until his next round of assignments from Herr Edgeworth.

With Apollo busy on smaller cases (they'd had a quick lunch in the park over a shoplifting appeal, and then another dinner over an assault case), Klavier had more wins under his belt than he knew what to do with. Though, the short-handedness of the Prosecution's Offices had a tad to do with that as well. Klavier had more cases on his hands period, which of course, meant more wins.

They really needed to hire another prosecutor or two, though. As much as Klavier enjoyed his job, he did want to make a little time for that solo album of his. But, the law took priority, no matter his wishes. But until then, he'd enjoy his win streak and rub it in Apollo's face the next time they met for dinner or lunch.

Speaking of Apollo, Klavier spotted his red suit at the end of the corridor, his nose buried in a folder. He was leaning against the wall, reading and dead to the mass of bodies passing him by. He was so invested, he didn't notice Klavier sidle up to his side.

"Interesting reading, Herr Forehead?" Klavier asked, reaching up and pulling down the folder an inch. Apollo jerked, but settled when he realized who it was. He greeted Klavier with an annoyed frown that got a chuckle in return. "Though a busy hallway seems like a bad place for it."

"The waiting room was full, and I've got a meeting with the judge and another prosecutor in an hour," Apollo said. He closed his folder and put it under his arm. "There's not enough time to go back to the office, and there aren't many other places to go."

"The waiting room is full?" Klavier asked, eyebrow raised. "That's hard to believe."

"You didn't notice the extra crowd?" Apollo asked, almost smiling. He nodded his head toward the people milling about. There were a bit more than usual, not that Klavier looked around. Apollo tugged his arm up and started spinning the bracelet on his arm. "The Chick Case blew up this morning. Turns out there were three busses worth of character witnesses involved and the defense attorney called all of them in to give testimony."

"The Chick Case? The one where that man held up a store in a chicken costume?" Klavier scrunched his nose and shook his head. He couldn't remember what poor soul was prosecuting that one. "Wasn't he charged with armed robbery and two counts of assault?"

"Yup, but apparently his defense claims that he wasn't robbing the store, he was trying to do a floor show, and called in this huge troop of actors to defend him," Apollo said, shaking his head. He narrowed his eyes, and opened his briefcase to put up his folder. "It's got the entire lobby backed up, and they've had to push some court hearings to get through all of the witnesses."

"I'm surprised Herr Judge agreed to that," Klavier said. He crossed his arms and looked down the hallway. "It seems a bit extreme."

"Don't ask me," Apollo said. He looked down at his papers, a frown on his face. "Some strings somewhere got pulled, but either way, I'm not sure it'll help much."

Apollo looked like he wanted to say something else, so Klavier waited long enough for him to do so.

"Which is what I'm hoping," Apollo said. He glanced at Klavier, and lowered his voice. Klavier took the hint and leaned in so he could whisper. "Not that I don't feel bad for the guy, but I looked at all the evidence and spoke with some of the witnesses while I was looking for a place to sit and frankly, his case looks pretty bad. All they're doing is delaying the inevitable guilty sentence."

"So you think he's guilty?" Klavier asked, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Yes," Apollo said. He frowned and shook his head. "I mean, I can't say for sure because I've never talked with the guy face to face, but it doesn't look good, and even if he is really innocent, what they're doing now isn't the way to prove it. They're just tying up resources, wasting people's time, and in the end, when he's found guilty he'll get a worse sentence for making people jump through hoops.

"He would have been better off pleading guilty on the first day and taking the minimum sentence," Apollo said, rubbing between his eyes. He shook his head and murmured. "Sorry. I'm just thinking about having a meeting with Payne and the Judge after this fiasco and not looking forward to it."

"Well, I can offer a bit of comfort," Klavier said. He pointed at the door and smiled. "Want to wait in my office until your meeting? A three minute walk between buildings is plenty of time to get some coffee and clear your head from this crowd."

"You don't mind?" Apollo asked, perking up. He cleared his throat, and ran his hand back and forth over his hair. "I mean, if it wouldn't be any trouble, I'd love to get out of here for a little bit."

"No trouble," Klavier said. He flicked Apollo in the forehead and chuckled. "After you, Herr Forehead."

"Thank you." Apollo pushed off the wall and practically skipped out of the courthouse.

Klavier took his time following him, knowing his door was locked so it wouldn't matter how fast Apollo beat him there.

* * *

Klavier was enjoying his second cup of coffee when Edgeworth knocked on the doorframe of his office two hours after Apollo had left for his meeting. Edgeworth poked his head in and tugged his glasses down to the bridge of his nose. "You might want to go pick up, Mr. Justice from the courthouse. I hear he's taken refuge in an empty courthouse until people stop mobbing around his bike."

Klavier frowned, looking up from a court file. Apollo was fine a couple hours ago. What on earth occurred between now and then? Payne was annoying, but he wasn't often a literal pain. "Did something happen?"

"He may or may not have gotten into a fistfight," Edgeworth said, his mouth quirking in the side like he was more amused than he should be. "And he may or may not be nursing a rather spectacular black eye and a possible bruised rib."

"May or may not be?" Klavier asked, already standing up from his chair and grabbing his suit jacket.

"Officially, I've heard and seen nothing. It's all hearsay," Edgeworth said, definitely smiling now. He checked his watch and held up his briefcase. "And I'm heading out for the day, so if he happens to hide out in your office until Gumshoe calms down the angry cop looking for him, I certainly don't know about it."

"Have a good evening then, Herr Edgeworth," Klavier said, nodding. He joined Edgeworth in the hallway and locked his office up as he stepped outside. "I appreciate the heads up on the un-confirmable gossip."

A dash to the courthouse, and two empty courtrooms later, and Klavier found Apollo holed up in the gallery behind the Prosecutor's side. He'd sat on the floor, perfectly hidden by the rows of chairs if someone just glanced inside.

It was a good thing Klavier was a man on a mission.

"Dare I ask what happened?" Klavier tapped up the steps, checking behind him to make sure no one followed him into the room. "I know you've got quite the temper, but I'm hearing all sorts of gossip about a fight."

And he had. The throw-down between the Defense Attorney and the Mouthy Witness was all the water cooler talk. Edgeworth wasn't the only one giving Klavier a head's up that his defense buddy was in hot water.

It was nice to know news of their friendship was so accepted.

Apollo groaned into his hands, mumbling into them without looking up. His sleeve was ripped, and his briefcase was on its side behind his knees. "I thought I grew out of this when I was a teenager."

"Didn't you punch Herr Wright that one time?" Klavier asked, thinking it well worth it when Apollo shot him an angry glare. "I seem to recall that being an incident."

"He deserved it," Apollo said, pointing at Klavier's face. "And this is different. I think I broke that guy's nose."

"Well I have it on good authority that Herr Gumshoe is going to pull some strings and have people look the other way on this one." Klavier crouched next to him, crossing his arms over his knees. He smiled brightly, trying not to enjoy Apollo's misery too much, but it was pretty funny when you knew there wouldn't be any untoward consequence. It wasn't like Klavier had never been in a brawl before. "We're too overworked to worry about prosecuting you, so come on, tell Klavier what happened."

Apollo dragged his hands down and pinned Klavier with his eyes. He choked out a laugh and leaned back on the seat in front of him. "I really shouldn't get special treatment."

"But you're getting it anyway, so you might as well indulge," Klavier said, shrugging. He nudged Apollo in the side with his elbow. "What happened?"

"Mr. Wright's going to be furious," Apollo said, avoiding the question. He sighed and rubbed his hair. "Or he'll be amused I at least one the fight and pat me on the back. I'm not sure which will be worse."

"Apollo," Klavier tried again. "What's wrong?"

"I knew one of the witnesses for that Chick case," Apollo said. He stared at the back of the chair in front of him. "I ran into him after the meeting, and he recognized me. He was an old classmate and we didn't quite get along."

"And that caused a fist fight, because?" Klavier asked, spinning a finger in the air for the rest of the story.

"He had some choice words about Mr. Wright and uh," Apollo paused, covering his mouth. He glanced at Klavier for a second before focusing back on the chair. His next line was whispered. "And Mr. Gavin."

"I imagine that you don't wish to repeat those choice words."

Apollo shook his head. "No, not really."

"Well then, I'm convinced they probably had whatever it was you did to them coming," Klavier said, standing up. He held his hand down for Apollo to take it. "I think that you and I should visit that bottle of scotch I have in my office for nights like this."

"I don't think drinking is the answer," Apollo said, grabbing Klavier's hand. He allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and smiled sadly. The black eye had begun to yellow and Klavier wished Herr Forehead had heard about this earlier. "But hiding in your office sounds better than hanging out here."

"I heard they were stalking your bike?" Klavier asked.

"Reporters," Apollo said. He snorted and snatched up his briefcase. "We weren't exactly subtle about throwing punches, and a couple officers had to split us up."

"And you ran?"

"Not until after he did," Apollo said, choking out a laugh. His grin was self-loathing, but almost proud. "Instinct took over and all I could think about was 'I shouldn't be here when the rest of them show up.' So I made a run for it, instead of sticking to give a proper statement."

"Well, this definitely made for the better story and you're lucky to have friends in high places." Klavier chuckled. He slapped Apollo on the back, before slipping his arm around his shoulder. Klavier gave Apollo a quick side hug. "You definitely need at least one drink."

"Just one," Apollo said, glaring at Klavier.

"Just one," Klavier nodded back.

* * *

"I'm going to take a guess he had something stronger than grape juice," Herr Wright said, leaning against the doorframe of his office.

Apollo hung off Klavier's shoulder, singing the last line from one of Klavier's songs from his first album. The rendition was off key and horrible, but it was the attempt that mattered. Herr Wright's gaze was halfway between an amused friend and an angry parent; like he couldn't make up his mind which one he needed to be at the moment. Klavier hoped for the first, considering he was responsible for Apollo's current drunken state.

"To be fair, he was sort of having a bad day," Klavier said, wincing as Apollo tried to move. It was unclear what he wanted to do, but he was in no state to hold himself up. Klavier grabbed Apollo to keep him from falling over and hauled him back up into Klavier's side. "And I probably should have cut him off after the fourth shot."

"And you didn't because?" Herr Wright asked, switching completely to the protective parent role. The understanding friend was long gone and probably wouldn't take "Because Apollo really needed it, and after the third shot he proved to be a cute drunk who knew the lyrics to my songs" as a proper answer.

"He seemed like he needed it," Klavier said, deciding on a half-truth. He tightened his grip on Apollo when he started to yawn and mumble into his jacket. Klavier took a shot in the dark, hoping he wouldn't have to explain everything. "Herr Edgeworth didn't happen to call you about today, did he?"

"He said Apollo was likely to be late, but didn't give me the details, no," Herr Wright said, dropping his hands into his hoodie pockets. His glare increased, and Klavier felt like a beetle pinned to a board under the scrutiny. It was worse than one of Apollo's piercing stares. Herr Wright leaned forward. "Why is Apollo drunk again, now?"

"Cause that bastard called you," Apollo shouted, breaking into the conversation. His eyes were half lidded, and he lurched forward and grabbed the front of Herr Wright's hoodie in his fist. "Called you things I can't repeat 'cause Trucy's home!"

"Did they now?" Herr Wright asked, taking his hands out of his pockets in case he had to catch Apollo.

"He was a jerk," Apollo said, the venom slipping into his drunken slur. His fist twisted in the fabric of Herr Wright's hoodie, the other still locked firmly around Klavier's shoulders. Apollo trembled in his latent anger. "Glad I broke his nose."

"I'm sure he'll explain when he sobers up," Klavier said. He shifted Apollo to pass him off to Herr Wright. "But for now, I think it's time Herr Forehead slept this off."

Herr Wright took Apollo, taking it with complete grace when Apollo latched onto him in an awkward hug. Apollo buried his face into Herr Wright's hoodie and passed out on the spot. Klavier was happy that Herr Wright kept his hold tight, and kept Apollo from spilling on the floor.

"Thanks for bringing him here," Herr Wright said, rubbing Apollo's back. "Instead of dropping him off alone at home. I have a feeling he'll want someone to be around to nurse this hangover in the morning."

"That's what I was figuring," Klavier said. He smiled a little, wishing that he could be that person, but they were still too early in their friendship for that. Better Herr Wright this time. "Besides, I didn't think he should be alone this drunk, and I unfortunately can't stay the night."

"Thanks, Gavin," Herr Wright said. "I'll have him text you in the morning to make sure you know he's okay."

"Thank you," Klavier said. He held his hand up and smiled. "Night, Herr Wright."

"Bye," Herr Wright said. He tugged Apollo inside the office and shut the door.

* * *

Klavier dropped his keys in the bowl next to the door, shrugging out of his jacket as he locked up at home. Now that the amusement of babysitting a drunk Apollo had ended, all he had left was his thoughts. And none of them were things he wanted to linger on.

Shedding his clothes on the way to his room, he entered the ensuite naked save for his pendant, and turned on the shower. He ducked his head under the scalding stream of water before stepping inside.

"It sucks when everything you know about being a defense attorney you learned from a serial killer," Apollo had said sometime after the second glass. He'd been mumbling into the table. "I think that's why I hit him so hard. 'Cause it was true."

Klavier had listened to Apollo rant about the insults this man had thrown at Herr Wright about him being a homeless con artist to being a failed art student, but that was nothing compared to the comments thrown in about Kristoph. Add in Apollo's association with both of them, and he couldn't exactly blame Herr Forehead for throwing a few punches.

Either way, the third drink got Apollo past the bend and stumbling around Klavier's office. He smiled under the shower water, remembering the better portions of the night. Apollo had latched onto an album shelf and declared quite drunkenly, "Trucy's got all these. She makes me listen to them."

He put one into Klavier's stereo system a second later, and they both drowned thoughts of the fight and his brother out with old Gavinners tunes.

The evening had gotten much better after that. Up until Apollo declared he wanted a sixth drink, that is, and Klavier noticed he himself had only had one. It was around then he decided the boy needed to go home.

Klavier rinsed out the last of the suds from his hair, watching the bubbles collect on the bottom of his shower. He spent four more minutes under the water before turning off the tap and grabbing a towel.

He hoped everything worked out for Apollo, and he really did get out of any assault charges. Gumshoe was usually good for convincing people to let bygones be bygones, somehow, so Apollo had that in his favor. At the very least, he seemed to have the Head Prosector's support, so that was something. Klavier smiled, shaking his head. "Special Treatment." More like "Edgeworth saved himself the trouble of Herr Wright begging him to help Apollo out later."

Klavier fell on his bed, wet hair spread around the blankets. He checked his phone, on the off chance Apollo drunk dialed him, and threw it on the pillow when it was empty.

He closed his eyes and vowed that next time, he and Apollo would be good enough friends that he could crash at Klavier's place instead of needing to be dragged home to Papa Wright.


End file.
